


Kiss Me Like It's Not Allowed

by a_lonely_tatertot



Series: Gay Kotlc For Your Soul [6]
Category: Keeper of the Lost Cities Series - Shannon Messenger
Genre: Alden is a Bad Dad, Elwin is a good dad, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, alden's homophobic, fitz is a repressed gay, happy ending i prommis, keefe hurts a lot, stars are pimples that is all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:22:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26076379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_lonely_tatertot/pseuds/a_lonely_tatertot
Summary: Four times Keefe kisses Fitz and once where Fitz gets over his gay crisis and kisses him first
Relationships: Keefe Sencen/Fitz Vacker, keefitz
Series: Gay Kotlc For Your Soul [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1795663
Comments: 3
Kudos: 41





	Kiss Me Like It's Not Allowed

The night it all started was normal. Keefe sprawled on Fitz’s bed, staring at the ceiling lost somewhere in a world of thought. “I wonder what it’s like to kiss someone,” Keefe said to no one in particular. 

Fitz looked up startled, “Didn’t you kiss my sister once?”

“She turned her head!” He put his hands up in defense. “I meant like, kiss someone for real.”

“Come back to me when you have an answer,” Fitz sighed indifferently. He never really understood the gain there was to smashing mouths together and moving them around. He hadn’t realized Keefe had moved to sit cris cross in front of him until he pulled away his book. “Hello to you too,” he said. Keefe’s ears were pink against his pale hair.

“What if- if you wanted to- maybe we- I could- uh,” he swallowed, eyes darting everywhere. Fitz smiled a bit.

“Spit it out, buddy.”

“CanIkissyou?” Fitz’s brain short-circuited, and Keefe began to fidget, playing with his hands like he would die if he didn’t. Purely out of impulse and not thinking straight, Fitz surged forward his forehead smacking into Keefe’s. “Ow,” he groaned.

“That definitely could’ve gone better,” Keefe laughed weakly. Before he could grab the book again and hide behind the pages, soft hands ghosted his face.  _ Oh _ , he thought, realizing what he agreed to.

“This still okay?” he asked softly. His hands fell gently on Fitz’s cheeks. They were light, barely there, waiting to be refused. 

A breathy, “Yes,” was all Keefe needed to press their lips softy together. 

There weren’t any fireworks as Fitz’s eyes fluttered closed and pushed back slightly. There wasn’t anything grandiose about it, it was sloppy and messy. There was only this: Fitz’s vague thought of  _ Oh _ , as the air was stolen out of his lungs by Keefe’s soft irreversible touch.

Eventually Keefe pulled away, panting slightly. He chased him for a quick second, quickly realizing that his hands had left with his mouth. So it went, Fitz winding up the courage to put his hands in his hair, his eyes widening at the sudden touch but leaned into it. So it went, hands, mouths, hair.

When it’s over he watched Keefe leave. Frizzy hair, flushed cheeks, and swollen lips. Some part of him realized that he had done that. A dopey grin took over his face.

But his small paradise shattered the moment Keefe closed the door and someone else opened it. By harsh words and stern looks. His father said it wasn’t okay, that if he wanted to matter the kiss couldn’t matter. So the next day he doesn’t let it change things and he tried to miss the way Keefe stared after him.  _ It doesn’t matter _ , because he mattered.

  
  


His heart was in his ears as he moved through the warehouse. A shout rang out to his left followed by a buzz signaling that someone was out on his team. He filed that somewhere in the back of his mind as he hid behind a wall. If he could just spot someone- There! Tam was running between two walls- 

“Hey, Princey,” whispered Keefe, right as he was about to pull the trigger. And just like that, his concentration was gone and so was Tam.

“Dammit,” he breathed, lowering the gun. Fitz tried to ignore Keefe, he was supposed to be helping his team. That couldn’t happen if he thought about the annoyingly persistent boy next to him. They did this often, the group finding themselves more often at the old warehouse converted to a laser tag company. It was known that Fitz was the best shot, his aim was unmatched by the others. Most of the time he found himself like this: behind a wall, or on top of something, trying to hit the people running in and out between the walls.

He watched the layout for a bit and tried to not think about Keefe’s heavy gaze on him (keyword: tried, he didn’t succeed). A flash of blue and his finger was on the trigger, firing. There was that familiar tension in his chest, waiting for the light to turn blue and the buzzer to go off-

And it didn’t. “Having some problems there?” Keefe teased. 

“Uh, yeah, you,” Fitz responded flatly. His eyes stayed on the field even though he knew it’d be useless. As he fell deeper into his thoughts he saw Keefe’s vest, blue. The beginning of an idea formed when Keefe gently wrapped a hand around his wrist.  _ Don’t tense don’t tense- _

Keefe let out a soft laugh, “Your pulse is racing.”

“Oh?” Fitz was barely even thinking about what left his mouth, his mind somewhere else. “Maybe it’s cause of how close you are.” He was close, Fitz could feel his breath brushing his cheek. “Maybe I want you closer.”

A small blush spread across his face, rising to the tips of his ears and racing down his neck. In one quick move, Fitz laced his fingers through Keefe’s and spun them around and pinned Keefe against the wall he was hiding behind. “Hey.” Keefe stared at him, wide-eyed.

“This was not how I expected this to go,” he said finally. Fitz chuckled lightly.

Keefe leaned in slightly and Fitz didn’t stop him, nor did he when Keefe kissed him. It was messy and slow like the first time and every bit as distracting. Some part of him knew that he should probably shoot him right then, it would be so easy and he wouldn’t see it coming-

There was the soft click of the trigger and the buzzer went off in the distance. Fitz didn’t notice, he was too focused on the feeling of Keefe pulling away. “You shouldn’t let yourself get distracted so easily Fitzy,” he said, a smirk pulling at his mouth. The tips of his ears were pink as ran off, there was a hit of sadness in his eyes when he looked back once more.

“What the fuck,” he whispered to the wall.

  
  


  1. He ran, laughter barely held in. 8. He spun around the corner, wide empty hallway in front of him. 7. _Don’t slow down_ , he thought, destination already in mind. 6. Quieter this time as he swung the closet door open. 5- “Well this is ironic,” said Keefe, his voice next to his ear. Fitz forgot how to breathe.



“Don’t pass out on my account Fitzy,” Keefe chuckled.

“What’re you doing here?”

“Hiding, though I think you’re a bit better at that than me.”

“Oh just shut it,” Fitz grumbled. “Can you scoot over?”

Before he could as again, Keefe’s hand covered his mouth and the other gripped his side. In a second, he had turned them and pressed Fitz into the back of the closet. A squeak escaped his mouth before he could stop it. 

“I didn’t think you’d be so noisy,” Keefe whispered, his voice a warm breath on Fitz’s lips. Without his permission, his eyes found Keefe’s mouth. Like he’d been waiting for it, Keefe leaned in a bit and he dimly realized he would have to be on his toes. 

“We shouldn’t,” he breathed, regretting the words as soon as it was out.

“Okay.” Keefe leaned back into the wall, eyebrows furrowed, eyes trained on the floor. Fitz found he couldn’t move his gaze; that he didn’t want to.

So he didn’t. His eyes traced the way his eyebrows furrowed, the smooth curve of his nose, the sharp lines of his clenched jaw. With a sudden burst of confidence, he placed a hand above Keefe’s head and leaned in.

“What, Princey?” Keefe said with a growl.

“Kiss me,” it was a challenge. A shot in the dark. A make or break. And even as Keefe’s eyes narrowed, he wasn’t gonna say no.

When he thought about it later, his father’s disapproving look burned it’s way into Fitz’s mind. He wanted to cry because why did it have to be wrong? Why did it feel right? 

In the end his father’s words won as the sick feeling found home in his stomach because of a single text.

11:30pm

**Fitz:** We cant do that again

1:05am

**Keefe:** Okay.

  
  


The stars filled the sky. “They’re like pimples,” Keefe laughed, his voice soft, words slurred.

“What?” Fitz asked, rolling on his side. It was mesmerizing watching Keefe look at the stars. He got this look in his eyes, sometimes he would tell Fitz what he was thinking. Others, he would pass meaningless jokes, and on the worst days, he would sit, and stare, and drink so much he passed out on the roof.

“The sky has acne,” he giggled a bit and threw back another swig. 

“I think they’re freckles, freckles are better than pimples,” Fitz sighed, alcohol seeping into his words. They came out here on bad nights. If their dads were rough all it took was a call. If school was hard, they’d ditch it all. Tonight, Fitz hadn’t even had to specify. On the second tone, Keefe picked up and responded, “I’ve been waiting for you to say that.”

“Keefe only hummed in vague recognition. He jumped down, hitting the ground with a soft thud and slide in the driver’s seat to turn up the music. When he climbed back up there was something else in his eyes. The beat thrummed through the car, matching the quick pace of Fitz’s heart. “If you’re gonna say something, say it,” he whispered into the tentative silence. 

“Can I kiss you?” There was a rushed ask, a careful impulsive decision in his voice, he didn’t know if it was the beer or just Keefe.

Stop. His heart, his breathing, the beat. “Pardon?” Start. 

“Like the other night, can I kiss you?”  _ The other night _ . The words he had carelessly thrown out, the way he could feel Keefe’s shattered heart through his simple ‘Okay.’  _ The other night _ was not something he wanted to repeat. But he was drunk and he shouldn’t be thinking and all he could think of was Keefe. He already knew the answer before it left Fitz’s mouth. 

“ _ Yeah _ .”

And there was that feeling again, the one he had told himself he would never feel again. The intensity, the openness, screw the stars this was so much better. There was an air of forbiddenness to it, Alden had said no as he had said to these nights, so was it really different? Out there, the woods, the car, the beat edging everything in them on, Keefe’s mouth moving on his, it wasn’t allowed; Fitz had never wanted anything more. 

  
  


He was warm, it was all warm. Hard and solid, but comfortable. He was laying on something that felt more like home than any pillow ever did. It was steady.  _ Keefe _ , something told him. 

_ It doesn’t mean anything _ , he responded automatically, and he hated himself for it. It didn’t, it couldn’t. Yet some part of him wanted it to, some part that was quickly growing bigger. He shoved the thought away as another wave of drowsiness hit.

  
  


It wasn’t warm, it was very cold. “Took you long enough Princey,” Keefe said, “You know it was a pain in the ass hauling you in here. If you weren’t such a bitch when you wake up hungover, I might’ve made you do it yourself.”

He chuckled lightly and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. When memories of the night before came racing back, he shoved them out. He couldn’t, he wasn’t allowed, it was a mistake.  _ It meant  _ nothing, he repeated like a mantra. 

The drive back was normal. The radio playing steadily, talking about meaningless things. They didn’t bring up last night. But they should and Fitz knew it. Keefe was tense, his hands on the steering wheel were tighter than they need to be, his back was slumped, and tightness gripped his words. He wanted to ignore it. He wanted to be oblivious to the telltales.  _ You’re the reason,  _ a nasty voice said.  _ You broken thing. _

“Look,” Keefe said turning off the car. “We need to talk.”

“Do we?”

“I know you’re not big on feelings and all that-”

“We were drunk okay? We’re teenagers it’s normal, it doesn’t change  _ anything _ .”

Keefe let out a helpless breath and stared at him with wide eyes. He wanted to take it all back, he wanted to fix the broken expression Keefe wore but he couldn’t, he  _ couldn’t _ .

“It was no different from the others,” he said finally.

“You can’t kiss me like that and say it means nothing!” There were tears in his eyes, and Fitz was falling apart from the inside out, staring at him.

“It didn’t, Keefe.” He opened the door.

“Then don’t expect to mean anything to me.”

Somehow he still knew how to rip him up with a single sentence. It didn’t matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t forget Keefe’s words. He couldn’t forget Keefe.

It’s so cold. There’s ice under his skin, eating him up inside. As soon as he stepped inside it all came crashing down. Because he couldn’t forget Keefe. Keefe and the weight of his mouth. Keefe, his best friend since they were kids. Keefe and his thoughts, his idea,s his everything. He couldn’t forget his dopey smile when he agreed the first time only two weeks before. How he threaded his fingers through Fitz’s hair. His raspy voice, the way he only looks at peace with a pencil in his hands. How his confidence was a facade crafted by years of hurting. And there was that bubbling feeling that burned his throat as the rest of him froze with regret. So he screamed and yelled, his voice a release of the flames scorching him from the inside. He didn’t give a damn who heard him.

Time passed, but he paid no attention. He didn’t know how long he was there. Angry and bitter and pissed. He screamed until his throat went dry and his voice was a whisper. Until his eyes hurt from the tears and he didn’t have any left in him. And he was finally as empty as he should’ve been.

Clap. Clap. Clap.

Biana stood in the doorway. “Wow, what happened here?”

“Screw off, Bi,” he muttered.

“It’s Keefe isn’t it?” At the mention of his name Fitz rolled over and groaned into his pillow. He knew the drill at this point. He was an open book to Biana and there was no point in hiding it. So he explained. From the beginning, every stupid kiss that made his stomach twist. When he finally finished, she let out a low whistle.

“You messed up big time buddy,” she said solemnly. 

“Thank you for stating the obvious.”

“You’re quite welcome. Do you know what I think? I think you’re in love with him.”

“What?” The worst part was, it made sense.

“You love him and you know it,” she said with a smirk. “You’re just burying all of it cause of Dad.”

Everything clicked into place, the puzzle that was Keefe Sencen finally made sense. He didn’t know how he hadn’t gotten it. Before he knew it he was in the car, starting on the hour drive to Elwin’s, Biana next to him, the siblings grinning like idiots.

Biana’s phone almost buzzed itself off the dash startling both of them.

“It’s the Team,” she smiled, “This’ll be fun.”

“Why the hell is your after school club calling?” Fitz asked, incredulous. She didn’t respond, only answered the phone on speaker.

“We owe Dex twenty dollars,” Sophie said solemnly.

“I thought Wylie was closer,” Biana responded.

“No, I was last week,” said Wylie dejectedly.

“You had too much faith in the idiots,” he could hear Dex’s smirk through the phone.

“What’re you all talking about?” he asked finally speaking up.

“We bet on you dumbass,” Biana said not a hint of sympathy in her voice. “Turn here.”

“Where are you guys going?” Stina’s voice betraying how interested she was. 

“To Elwin’s so Fitzy here can dramatically confess his love, I’ll give y’all the details after,” Biana said hanging up. As he stared at the blue door of Elwin’s it all came crashing down on him.

“Dad’s not gonna like this,” he whispered, finding it harder to breathe. 

“Hey,” Biana said, forcefully grabbing his shoulders. There was that stubborn determination in her eyes that he had seen so many times before. “You get the boy, let me handle dad.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” he swallowed hard.

“Now go get ‘em, tiger.”

Well, that was the plan. As he walked up to the door he wondered if he should have flowers or an apology or where to even start. Turns out he didn’t have to worry about it. Because Keefe wasn’t home.

“Do you know where he is?” he asked, trying to keep the desperation out of his voice.

“It’s a clear night, where do you think?” Elwin said with a small smile. “He’s been out all day.”

“ _ Shit _ ,” he cursed. Of course, he was so stupid!

“Hey, language,” Elwin laughed.

“Thanks, sir,” he spun on his heel and ran back to the car. 

Biana didn’t say anything as he hightailed it out of the driveway, driving way too fast for a neighborhood. 

The woods weren’t far, he was lucky it wasn’t another hour. Yet when he found himself confronted by trees, he wanted more time. “What do I say?” he asked.

“Whatever your heart does.”

“My hearts going in every direction, it’s not used to being needed.”

“There’s a direction,” she said with a small laugh, “take it.”

So he did. The winding path was practically burned into his memory. The sun had set, he didn’t remember when. The stars were appearing as he found Keefe on the roof of his car, that same look in his eyes.

“What’re you thinking?” he asked, voice so quiet he didn’t know if Keefe had heard.

“I’m thinking,” Keefe said, eyes still trained on the sky. “ There's a boy. And I think he's lying to himself. I think he's scared of his dad and doesn't understand his feelings. A boy who gets so angry and hates himself for it. I think he's angry for being different. I think he regrets ibut doesn't know how to say it,” Keefe jumped down and locked eyes with him. “There's a boy, and I know him. And I think he knows me. And i really don't wanna be wrong.”

“I think you’re right.”

“Prove it.”

“Kiss me,” Fitz said. One more challenge.

“No,” He shook his head. “You’ve brushed that off enough times.”

“Then how?” 

“You kiss me.”

And Fitz couldn’t say no to Keefe. 

**Author's Note:**

> I am so so sorry for being nonexistent for like a month hope you like and you can find me on tumblr with the same URL (I am much more active there)


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